


Bad Date

by Cielestine_de_Winter



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 00:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cielestine_de_Winter/pseuds/Cielestine_de_Winter
Summary: Stiles gets dowsed with a date rape drug.  Derek helps him through it.





	Bad Date

Even before he opened his eyes, Stiles knew he hurt. Every part of him ached, from his head to his throat, to his back, right down to his legs. His ass was on fire. Stiles pried one eye open and looked blearily up.

Stiles stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and tried to piece together his memories. As he thought back to his evening, his low level sense of panic became amplified. Every last visage of self preservation urged him to leave. His heart started to race uncomfortably as he carefully slid out from under the dark sheets. He glanced around the dimly lit room and quickly donned his clothes, tears coming to his eyes as the pain exploded across his body. Just as he was checking for his wallet, keys, and phone, something fell off the bed and rolled on the floor. The dark haired, pale man in the bed next to him stirred.

“Hey, where’re going?” The man said sleepily.

“I, um, got to go,” Stiles whispered fighting his instinct to tear out of the room in a sprint.

The man blinked quickly awake. “No, you don’t have to leave,” the man sat up. “Come back to bed, I’ll get you something to drink.

“No!” Stiles said quickly, then regretted it. His throat felt like he had been swallowing glass. “Don’t get up. I’ll let myself out.” As he slipped on his shoes, he caught sight of a small empty vial. Without thinking his picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket.

“At least let me get you some water,” the man insisted.

“No, really.” Stiles walked as quickly as his aching body would allow. “I’ve got to go.” He opened the door and quickly found his way to the front door even as he heard the man start to follow him. A small voice in his head criticized him for being such a douche to the man; Stiles never had a one night stand before but he knew that he was being an asshole. But he genuinely had to get away before his heart exploded.

Stiles stepped out into the mid morning sun and walked so fast, it might have be considered a jog. He wanted to run, but his body refused. Stiles’s was hyper aware of the noises around him even though his head felt as though it was in a grey damp fog. Fear that the man would follow him made him push himself hard.

The houses in the neighborhood were much nicer than the typically student housing. His panic started to overwhelm him again, so he stopped and forced himself to breathe. He instinctively grabbed his phone. He pressed speed dial and held on to the phone with both hands.

“Stiles?”

Stiles knew there was no universe in existence where anyone would be able to say that Derek Hale was a friend of his. Through high school, college, and most of grad school, Derek had remained distant from Stiles. When circumstances and the frequent murderous supernatural being came their way, they worked together, abet a little grudgingly on Derek’s part. Stiles was pretty sure Derek hated him, but at that moment, his was the only voice Stiles wanted to hear.

“Stiles?” Derek asked again.

“Yea, sorry. I didn’t think you’d answer your phone.”

“I do occasionally come out of my cave, beat on my chest, and use modern technology,” Derek said sarcastically.

“Yea,” Stiles closed his eyes as they inexplicably watered. He took a shaky breath, drawing comfort from Derek’s voice.

There was an awkward pause. Stiles cast about his chaotic thoughts to dredge up something, anything to keep Derek talking.

“There a reason you’re bothering me on a Sunday morning?” Derek almost pleasantly.

“Sunday?” Stiles exclaimed. He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the date. Sure enough it was Sunday. Stiles stared dumbly at his phone for a few beats, he had lost _days_.

“Stiles!” Derek was shouting, drawing Stiles’s attention back to his phone.

Stiles quickly put the phone back to his ear. “Yea, sorry for bothering you,” he mumbled. He quickly disconnected the call and looked around the neighborhood again. Berkeley was a nice college town, but the disparity in the peaceful sunny day and Stiles’s panic was enough to kick Stiles’s feet into gear. He quickly pulled up a map on his phone and started navigating his way to the small apartment he had been renting.

  
  


  
  


As luck would have it, Stiles awoke on the other side of town from where he lived. The thought of calling anyone else made his skin crawl, so he walked the few miles to his apartment. He tried tracing back his memories, but there was just a void where his memories should have been. He arrived at his place in the late afternoon and consciously locked and dead bolted his door. The sick feeling of vulnerability and fear drove him to check it a few times, just to make sure it was secured. Through his haze, Stiles walked into his bathroom absently pulling out of his clothes and stepped in the shower.

  
  


  
  


“STILES! Stiles!”

Stiles opened his eyes and saw Derek Hale shouting at him in his shower. Stiles blinked a few times, trying to make sense of it.

Derek turned off the water and knelt down so he was eye level to Stiles. “Stiles, can you hear me?” He was sickened to see the bruises and teethmarks littering Stiles’s pale skin.

“When did you get here?” Stiles asked bewildered.

“I’ve been here since you arrived.” Derek grabbed and towel and helped Stiles to stand. “I’ve been trying to…”

Stiles grabbed Derek. “Derek, I don’t…” and Stiles was pulled under again.

Derek didn’t even bother dressing Stiles. He swept him out the door in the towel and put him in the Camaro. He quickly pulled up the nearest hospital on his phone.

Stiles’s eyes flew open at the navigation system’s voice. “What?”

Derek reached out and grabbed Stiles’s hand. “It’s okay, Stiles. We’re just going to the hospital and getting you checked out.”

“No, dude. We need to turn around so I can shower. I reek. I’m….” Stiles pulled in on himself and started to shake.

“You don’t reek, Stiles,” Derek said with forced calm. “You smell scared and like you’ve had sex and…”

“You can smell that?” Stiles looked like he was going to be sick. “Shit, Derek. I’m sorry. I’m, oh god. I’m…”

“Stiles. It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay. Not in the least. Especially not the way Stiles was acting. Stiles’s breathing grew hoarse. “Stiles,” Derek grabbed his neck. “Breath with me.” He said taking a few deep breaths, holding them, the releasing them slowly. “That’s it. Breath with me.”

Stiles’s heart beat gradually started to slow. Derek parked the car and then carried Stiles into the hospital. The admitting nurse took one look at Stiles’s vacant eyed stare and quickly brought him back. Derek stood awkwardly for a moment until he heard the intake specialist talking to someone.

“Yea, it’s another one.”

“Shit,” a tried male voice swore. “Do you think this one will make it?”

“God, I hope so,” the specialist answered. “I can’t see another kid go through that.”

“But this one came with someone, didn’t he? That’s something, right?”

“I hope it’s enough.” The specialist sighed. “I’m going to call the police. If he makes it through the next few hours we might have a chance at getting the bastard who’s doing this.”

“Yea…”

Derek’s attention was pulled away when the heartbeat that he had been unconsciously listening to started speeding up uncomfortably quickly. Derek couldn’t stop himself from walking through the door into the room where they had taken Stiles.

Stiles was struggling to breath and frantically pushing everyone away. The doctor barked orders to her scurrying staff. Derek pushed his way to Stiles’s side and grabbed his flaying hand. He clutched it to his chest and pressed the palm against his chest. “Stiles, breathe with me. Breathe with me.”

Stiles looked at him, his eyes wide and terrified. Derek leaned down so that his lips skimmed Stiles’s ear. “Just breathe with me.” He breathed deeply for a few minutes and heard as Stiles’s heartbeat slowed to match his.

Derek ran his hand through Stiles’s wet hair and eased him down. Stiles’s hand weakly grabbed onto shirt. Derek put his hand over Stiles’s. “I’m here, Stiles. Just breathe.”

Stiles closed his eyes and nodded. “Derek, don’t leave,” he whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Derek said looking at the doctor who stared at him.

The doctor didn’t look happy, but she nodded and motioned to the team. Moving quietly, the team continued around them and the doctor continued examining Stiles. Derek kept his eye on Stiles’s face, pulling pain from Stiles.

Stiles nodded as his eyes started to flicker closed. Derek continued running his hand through Stiles’s hair and only looked up when he felt the doctor’s eyes on him.

“Derek, I presume?”

“Yea,” Derek answered.

The doctor nodded to the rest of the staff and they left the room. “That wasn’t a panic attack.”

Derek frowned.

“We’ve had three other kids come in here presenting the same symptoms. They all coded within the 30 minutes of walking in the door. My morgue had four others in between those three. All DOA. I’ve never seem anything like it. You’ve been the first one to pull one of them through this.”

“Stiles is strong.”

“Yea,” the doctor looked down on him. “I’m admitting him. I don’t dare try a pharmacological treatment on him until I get his bloodwork back. You staying?”

Derek nodded, and faster than he anticipated he was sitting on a terrible hospital chair holding Stiles’s hand and tracing Stiles’s face with his other. Stiles’s face tensed for a second before his eyes flew open. He focused on Derek. Derek’s hand hung between them.

“Derek?”

Derek let his hand drop to his side.

Stiles flushed. It wasn’t until Stiles’s cheeks turned a pale rose that Derek had realize how pale he was. A wave of protectiveness washed over him.

Stiles closed his eyes. “Can…. Can you stay?” He asked, obviously embarrassed.

“I’m not leaving you,” Derek almost growled and took Stiles’s hand again.

“My… magic is…” Stiles groaned and squeezed Derek’s hand.

Derek pulled Stiles’s pain away and leaned down. “Breathe.”

“It’s like it’s gone. I’m empty,” his eyes filled with tears. “I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep, Stiles,” Derek said softly as he ran his free hand through Stiles’s unruly hair.

“I can’t remember Derek. I can’t…” Stiles’s breath grew labored.

“Just breath with me, Stiles,” Derek soothed.

Stiles heartbeat slowly calmed. Stiles drifted off into a troubled sleep.

Derek turned his head when the door opened. The doctor from before stepped into the room, followed closely by two cops. “Pharmacology came in.” She announced as she folded her arms in front of her. “We found a trace of something in his system, but there was too little for us to get an ID. You know something about that?”

Derek stood, not releasing Stiles’s hand. “No. He called me this morning sounding off. I live in a town about 3 hours from here. I came to check on him. Is he going to be okay?”

The doctor studied him for a long minute as one of the cops wrote some notes in a pad he was carrying. She finally crossed the room and looked at Stiles’s IV. “He’s dehydrated,” she said adjusting his lines. “We’re going to keep him here overnight and if his tests come back clean, we’ll discharge him tomorrow. Does he live with someone?”

Derek shook his head.

The doctor sighed. “Then is there someone who can stay with him?”

“I can stay with him,” Derek said instantly. Stiles made a soft noise and Derek squeezed his hand.

The doctor and the cops asked him a few more questions, but Derek’s focus was on Stiles’s pale face. Finally they left and Derek pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down.

  
  


Derek played with his phone for a few hours, his attention never really leaving Stiles. Stiles suffered through a half dozen more bad attacks, but Derek patiently eased him through all of them.

Stiles woke and wearily ate whatever Derek handed him before going back to sleep. Derek wasn’t even sure if Stiles was completely awake. Derek pushed the worry out of his mind but watched with growing concern as Stiles’s heartbeat started to slow noticeably.

A half an hour later Stiles’s system crashed. The doctor, a different one from the evening ordered Derek out as they rushed around Stiles’s bed. Derek walked out of the room, half terrified, half guilt ridden before he tore out his phone and dialed Deaton’s number.

Deaton answered on the first ring. “Yes, Derek?” Despite the late hour, the older man didn’t seem surprised.

“It’s Stiles. He got doused with something. Some kind of date rape drug. Thursday. He said he couldn’t feel his magic. He just crashed. I…”

“Did you smell anything on him?”

“No. He walked into the shower as soon as he got home.”

“Think back, a shower wouldn’t have washed everything off him.”

Derek thought hard. He was focused so hard on the sight of Stiles so bruised and injured that he didn’t think of anything else. He relaxed his mind and thought back. “Nothing. Not even alcohol. It was like his scent had been wiped clean from his body.”

“I was afraid of that,” Deaton sighed. “I’ll pick up Scott and be on the road within the hour.”

“Wait, Stiles wouldn’t want anyone to know.”

“I’m going to need Scott’s nose. We’re going to his apartment to see if we can find the clothes he was wearing. We might be able to glean something from them. Stiles needs you to stay with him. Walk him through breathing exercises and take away any pain he has. I’ll be in touch.” Deaton disconnected the call without letting Derek get a word in edgewise.

Knowing how angry Stiles would be, Derek dialed another number. It took several rings before the next person picked up.

  
  


  
  


Allison arrived at the hospital with Stiles’s father shortly before dawn. Stiles’s had stabilized somewhat and Derek had been sitting next to his bed holding his hand. John raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

“Doctors say his levels look fine. Besides some dehydration, they can’t figure out what’s wrong,” Derek said quietly.

“Supernatural, then,” John sighed. “Any idea what we’re up against?”

“Deaton and Scott came up early to check out his apartment. With any luck they’ll be calling soon. I have Lydia and Danny on standby in case they need anything researched. Erika is looking into any reports from this area and Isaac and Boyd are watching the kids.”

“Chris and Parrish checked in, there’s been an unusually high rate of deaths of college aged kids here. Signs of violent sexual activity. Are these cases related to my boy’s?”

Derek wished he could lie, but he couldn’t. “Yes.”

“I was at a bar,” Stiles’s voice was weak. John and Derek looked up at him. “I had one drink. Thursday night. I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up Sunday morning. Dad, I was careful. So careful.”

“I know, son, I know you were,” John soothed.

Derek’s phone rang and Derek squeezed Stiles’s hand before standing up and walking out. “Yes?”

“We found a vial in Stiles’s clothes. I’m having a colleague analyze it. Scott and Allison are tracing Stiles’s scent back.”

“What do you think we’re dealing with?” Derek asked.

“Lydia believes we are dealing with a Incubus.”

“But you don’t?”

“It is highly unlikely that Stiles would have survived his encounter if he had been with him the entire weekend. At best case, it could be a human who got a hold of some venom. Worst case, we’re dealing with a half breed predator.”

“I’ll call the others and contact the local pack,” Derek said nodding. “I’ll connect with Scott and…”

“You should stay with Stiles,” Deaton broke in. “He will need his mate.”

“Don’t call me that,” Derek said, looking around to make sure no one had overheard Deaton’s words.

“As I’ve counseled before, keeping this from Stiles will only damage your already tenuous relationship. It puts unnecessary strain on the pack and frankly is childish,” Deaton said calmly. “You need to tell him.”

“We are not going to talk about this.” Derek said coldly.

“By not claiming him you leave him open to others. He might not be so lucky the next time. As your emissary and his mentor, I owe it to him and you to keep talking about this.”

“You are bound not to say anything to anyone about this,” Derek growled. “You cannot break your…”

“I am well aware the limits you’ve placed on me,” Deaton said in the same cool voice. “But I wonder if you are aware the limits you’ve placed on yourself.”

Derek hung up the phone with a snarl. Derek took a breath and composed himself before joining the sheriff at Stiles’s bedside.

  
  


  
  


A few hours later Isaac walked into the hospital room with a small bottle from Deaton. Stiles grimaced as he drank it. Derek had to pull more of his pain as the antidote ran roughshod over Stiles’s already weakened body. The sheriff held Stiles’s other hand tightly, his pain etched in heavy lines into his face. Isaac had to leave a few minutes in, unable to see his pack mate in so much pain.

When Stiles finally drifted off into an exhausted sleep, the rest of the pack arrived. Scott had led the pack to the man’s house. Luckily for them, he was just a man who had somehow gotten hold of a supply of venom and had been using it to score. Unfortunately, he was an idiot who didn’t know the first thing about how toxic the stuff was and had been unintentionally poisoning his victims. The sheriff contacted the local law enforcement agency and very quickly the man was taken in, facing a pretty airtight case against him.

All and all one of the easier issues they’ve had to deal with, If Derek was being honest with himself. His wolf bitterly disagreed, making him surly to everyone except the sheriff who looked at him with interest as the alpha ordered his pack back home.

Scott looked like he had wanted to argue, but Allison took his hand and led him out without so much as a peep. The others quickly followed after scenting Stiles under Derek’s careful watch. When the others left, the sheriff sat down across the bed from Stiles and looked at Derek’s appraisingly. “I think it’s time Stiles came home. He can finish up his school work remotely. Spend some time with me and the pack.”

Derek’s mind instantly went to the plans of the Hale house that were spread out on his kitchen table. The feeling of _yea, want, pack,_ and _home_ filled him with an almost over power sense of longing. Derek didn’t want to burden Stiles with the title of Mate, but he couldn’t deny that there had been a Stiles’s sized hole in the pack since Stiles had gone away to college. Derek missed the others- Lydia, Jackson, but he felt Stiles’s absence viscerally. Judging by how often his pack FaceTimed, text, and snap chatted Stiles, they missed him as well.

“He makes good money with his freelance researching,” John continued. “So there would be no need for him to find a different job.”

“He may not want to come back,” Derek said morosely. He couldn’t allow himself to hope.

“Oh, he wants to come back. He misses you more than he probably says.” Derek’s eyes shot up at John’s deliberate wording. “He’s just not sure of his place.”

Derek frowned and tilted his head. Stiles’s place? In the pack?

John sighed and stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “He got all these fancy degrees, spent hours working on connections with every pack and supernatural conclave in the US, and even lived with that pack up in Wyoming for a winter just to get himself ready to be your emissary. Deaton’s ready to retire and Stiles’s says that his connection to the land is weak at best. Isn’t it time you give him a reason to stay?”

First Deaton, now John? Derek frowned.

“Look, son. You are the first person he calls. Every time. It doesn’t matter what it is, you are the first person he calls. Aren’t you tired of him putting himself in harm’s way just to prove that he’s ready for the job?”

“I can’t…” Derek bit off his words.

“You can’t what? Risk him?” John took a breath. “I’m his father Derek. He is all I have left and I’ve come to realize that no matter what I want he’s always going to be in some kind of danger. That’s just who he is. If I can understand this, isn’t it time for you to accept this too?”

Derek looked away.

“Claudia,” John said quietly. “Claudia was so like him. She was the bravest person I had ever known. Fearless when she thought she was right. Stiles gets that from her.”

“This isn’t about him being my emissary, is it?” Derek forced out.

John laughed sadly. “My son loves with his whole being, Derek. Just like Claudia.” He lapsed into silence.

  
  


  
  


The next day Stiles woke up with less energy than normal, but an petulant urgency to leave. Derek watched, amused as John pulled out all the stops to convince Stiles to return home. They weren’t big or obvious, but in a matter of hours, Stiles’s forceful ‘no’ had become an uneasy ‘maybe’. John winked at Derek as he prepared to leave.

Derek ducked out of Stiles’s room as he and his dad had one of their awkward family ‘talks’. He stared at the walls, reliving his time with Stiles. His wolf was restless and angry; he had already laid claim to Stiles and the thought of anyone hurting the younger man made him want to howl. As a man, he was terrified. He felt as though he was at the edge of a precipice, a hair’s breath of falling with no hope for survival. His previous relationships only reinforced the idea that he neither deserved or could handle a healthy relationship.

“Derek?”

Derek turned and caught sight of the doctor who had worked on Stiles when they first arrived at the hospital.

The doctor gave him an encouraging smile. “I looked over Stiles’s last tests results. We’re going to keep him for a few more hours, but he should be good to go home by tonight. Will you be staying with him?”

“Uh, his dad’s here, we may just bring him back home.”

The doctor tilted her head thoughtfully. “Bringing him home is a good idea.” She paused. “But, seeing how you two interacted with each other, it might be good for him if you stuck around. You obviously care very deeply for him and he’s going to need that kind of unwavering support in the next few weeks.”

“I’m not even sure if we’re friends,” Derek surprised himself by admitting.

The doctor shook her head at Derek. “Based on how stubborn he is about going home now, I’d say he’s not one to normally call for help. If he called you, that must mean something.”

Derek opened his mouth to argue, but then John’s words echoed in his head. _You are the first person he calls. Every time. It doesn’t matter what it is, you are the first person he calls._

The doctor stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I see the way you look at him. Like he’s the most important person in the world. He’s lucky to have you.”

 _No,_ Derek thought. _I’m lucky to have him._

Derek blinked as everything fell into place. Everything that Deaton had advised, everything that John told him, and everything that the doctor inferred came crashing down on him revealing one single truth.

Derek _was_ lucky to have him. And at that moment, Derek realized how much time he was wasting by trying to push Stiles away.

The doctor much have seen something in Derek’s eyes because she just smiled and walked away. Derek turned and quickly made his way back to Stiles’s room. John tossed him a few thoughtful looks before leaving to go back to Stiles’s apartment to get some sleep.

Derek watched as Stiles played with his phone.

“Thank you,” Stiles said suddenly, looking up from his phone. “For coming up.”

Derek nodded awkwardly. The silence grew heavy between them. Derek thought about all the things he wanted to say to Stiles but decide it was best to be quiet.

Stiles obviously disagreed. “Um, can we go over the ah, why part again? I’m a little unclear why you drove 3 hours to check on me.” He said putting the phone down and looking at Derek.

Derek looked away and clenched his teeth.

“Sourwolf, why are you here?” Stiles finally asked. “Deaton said I should be fine by now. You should go and get some rest with my dad.”

“You are obviously feeling better,” Derek sighed, slumping back in his chair. “How’ve you been, Stiles?”

Stiles laughed. “Great, can’t you tell?” He said sarcastically.

Derek sat up. “Do you want to come back to Beacon Hills?”

Stiles looked up and the celling. “I don’t want to go back as the squishy human.”

“Idiot,” Derek snorted.

Stiles looked over at him, flushing.

“You haven’t been the squishy human since the pool.” Derek almost stopped there, but the blank look in Stiles’s face kept him talking. “Come home. Scott and I need an emissary. You interested?”

Stiles blinked. “I thought you’d want someone with more experience.”

“You have a lot of experience. And you’re well liked both by the pack and the community at large. You’re smart, brave, and stupidly loyal to us, even though we don’t deserve your faith.” Derek was staring at Stiles’s warm eyes. “Come home.”

Stiles looked around the room wildly, his heart racing. Derek could almost taste his nervous energy buzz from underneath his skin.

“I can’t,” Stiles said softly.

Derek turned and looked at him in pained acceptance. “Okay.”

Stiles closed his eyes. “That’s why. Because you’d be fine with me walking away from you because you think that’s what you deserve! You are a fucking prince but you’ve been kicked around so much you think you’re garbage. It would kill me not to be the person who changes the way you feel about yourself. I love you so much and I’ll never be good enough for you. And I will probably die from pining for you.”

Derek stood up and leaned over Stiles. He put his hands on Stiles’s shoulders and lightly scented him. “Not now, Stiles. Not here.” He pushed Stiles away and looked at him. “Not when I can’t show you how much I love you. Please.”

Stiles’s eyes widened. “I thought you hated me.”

“That’s because I’m an idiot,” Derek shrugged.

It took a second and suddenly Stiles was smiling back up at him. “I’m going to woo the pants off you.”

Derek smiled. “I certainly hope so.”

Stiles laughed.


End file.
